


strings of tension, waiting to be struck

by Snacky



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-02 11:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18810292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snacky/pseuds/Snacky
Summary: Queen Susan of Narnia has journeyed to Westeros to broker an alliance, and hopefully a betrothal. She's successful, but the betrothal is between Edmund Pevensie and Sansa Stark, and both are wary of this match. But as battle looms, and they get to know each other, it's possible this may work out after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/gifts).



> So, I noticed you liked arranged marriages! I hope you like this. :)
> 
> I played with the GoT/ASOIAF timeline quite a bit in this. Robb survives the Red Wedding, but Catelyn doesn't. Sansa never marries Tyrion, and never goes to the Vale with Littlefinger. Robb takes back Winterfell, and Jon leaves the Wall to fight with Robb's army. The Narnians help the North fight against the White Walkers, and it doesn't happen the way it did on the show. ;) Other characters are mentioned, but this is primarily a story about Sansa and Edmund.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Susan of Narnia comes to Westeros and helps Sansa escape King's Landing. Sansa is saved, but there's a price to pay -- betrothal to Susan's brother, King Edmund.

King Edmund is not the first Pevensie to journey to Westeros. 

Sansa waits for him in the courtyard of Winterfell. The last storm has finally let up, but the snow is still falling lightly as King Edmund leads his Narnian army off the Kingsroad and through the gates, gryphons and giant eagles wheel overhead. There are Talking Beasts, Centaurs, Fauns, Dwarfs, and other creatures Sansa has no names for among the ranks.

The army King Edmund leads is so large that most of them won't fit through the gates of Winterfell, not with all the armies gathered inside already. Sansa whispers to her steward, telling to him to send men to help the Narnians find shelter in the Winter town.

The people of Winterfell are staring at the Narnians, gaping at the strange creatures lining up in the courtyard, as King Edmund dismounts from his horse. Sansa, however, has grown accustomed to Narnians, and she doesn't blink an eye as King Edmund walks over to her, bows his head, and offers a greeting.

_Finally._

~~~

Queen Susan was the first of the Narnian sovereigns Sansa met, back in King's Landing, what seems like a hundred years ago now.

She had journeyed from Narnia to the Seven Kingdoms at the invitation of King Joffrey, and she had been welcomed in his court, back when Tyrion Lannister was still Hand of the King, and Sansa was still betrothed to Joffrey.

Back when she was alone and a hostage in the Red Keep.

Despite having issued an invitation for her visit, Cersei and Joffrey had not thought much of Queen Susan — "a queen from a backward little country across the ocean, two kings and two queens! What nonsense!" — until she had arrived in King's Landing, and then they didn't know what to make of her at all. A Queen in her own right, not a consort. A Queen who arrived with a retinue of large beasts and tall, willowy handmaids, and very few men. Queen Susan had a white wolf and a jaguar who accompanied her everywhere, and she jokingly referred to these beasts as her "guards." She had other pets as well - a raven and a ferret, who were with her as often as the guards were. 

Despite these oddities, Sansa had observed Queen Susan to be a true diplomat. If the Lannisters thought to take advantage of her, of a Queen far from home, without a King by her side, they soon learned they were wrong. Queen Susan was in Westeros to negotiate an alliance between the countries, if it was to both their advantage, and to negotiate a betrothal, and it wasn't long before all the court knew it.

Sansa had watched Queen Susan carefully, as carefully as she watched Cersei, and Joffrey, and Lord Tyrion. She watched the Narnian queen charm the court, and charm the King. But Joffrey wasn't too bright, so that wasn't hard. It had been Cersei and Tyrion that Susan needed to charm.

The Narnian queen's white wolf had made Sansa long for Lady. The wolf had made her think of her brother — half brother — Jon, and his direwolf, thousands of miles away, up at the Wall. The wolf had made Sansa think of home, made her long for home, had made her wish for her mother and for her brothers, and for Arya. For someone to come to rescue her, for someone to help her, for someone to be with her, so she would no longer be alone.

The white wolf had made Sansa feel brave, as strange as that had been. Brave enough to gather her courage and speak with Queen Susan one day, when they both had joined the other ladies at court in the gardens of the Red Keep for afternoon tea. 

Sansa had sat next to Queen Susan in the bright sun, the other ladies around them discussing the latest court gossip and laughing over particularly juicy stories. Queen Susan had smiled at Sansa as they both sipped tea and nibbled on lemon cakes, and her white wolf had nudged Sansa's hand, asking to be petted.

Looking back, Sansa knows now why the wolf had done so, knows that Queen Susan had asked her guard to befriend Sansa. But at the time all knew was the feel of thick fur under her fingers, memories of Lady causing her heart to ache, but to feel brave as well.

The voices of the other ladies droned around them, like the bees buzzing amongst the flowers in the garden, and Sansa had answered every question Susan had asked her, about Joffrey, about Cersei, about the Lannisters. Questions about the war being waged, questions about her family — so many questions Sansa had answered in a quiet voice, as the white wolf lay its head in her lap, as the jaguar rolled lazily in the sun by Queen Susan's feet, as her raven had flown around them overhead, squawking and making a general nuisance, as the ferret had run amongst the other ladies of the court, charming them with tricks. And distracting everyone else from the conversation between Queen Susan and Sansa.

Queen Susan had not said much in response to Sansa's answers, but she had thanked her when the other ladies had begun to stir and depart from the gardens, as the afternoon sun waned. Sansa had worried she had said too much — knew she had said too much — as she watched Queen Susan and her animals walked out of the gardens. Sure enough, when Sansa had entered the Red Keep, one of Cersei's ladies had reported back that Sansa had spoken to Queen Susan. No one had overheard their conversation, but it had been noticed, and Sansa had not gone unpunished. Once again, she felt the Kingsguards' fists across her face, and the flats of the swords across her back.

That night Sansa had lain in bed, sore and and bruised and bloody from her latest beating, and she had regretted her impulse to be brave and trust a stranger.

That night, Queen Susan's ferret had appeared in her chambers, and spoke to her. 

That night, Sansa's life had been saved.

~~~

When Sansa had gotten over her shock, she'd done as the Ferret (whose name, she told Sansa, was Slynne) requested. She'd left all her belongings behind and followed the animal quickly and silently through corridors of the Red Keep Sansa had never seen before, and out of the great castle and into the city, all without attracting any attention.

Almost before she had realized what was happening, Sansa had followed Slynne down to the harbor, where the great Narnia ship that Queen Susan had arrived on was at the farthest dock. She had followed Slynne onboard, and Queen Susan was waiting for them on the deck.

She had greeted them with a smile. "Well done, Slynne," she had said to the ferret, then gave the order to the ship's captain to set sail. As the great ship began to move, she turned back to Sansa. "Lady Sansa, you're going home."

~~~

Queen Susan Pevensie of Narnia had saved Sansa from the Lannisters, from Joffrey, from the the daily beatings, from Cersei's scorn and abuse, from isolation, from the hell that was King's Landing. The Queen told Sansa she had made up her mind to leave the Red Keep, and quickly, before the Lannisters thought to detain her.

"Although they would not have been successful if they tried," she had told Sansa that night, her mouth set in a grim line, as the ship moved silently out of Blackwater Bay under the cover of darkness.

Queen Susan had learned much of the state of Westeros during her stay in the Red Keep, between talking with Lord Tyrion and the Queen, the members of the King's Small Council, and the gossip in the court. She had learned enough, she told Sansa, to know that it wasn't the Lannisters she wanted to make an alliance with. And it was no secret that Sansa was a hostage, while the war between the North and the Lannisters raged on.

"The decision was easy," she told Sansa. "I couldn't leave you there. I will take you to your brother, and see if there is an alliance to be made with the North."

Sansa had wept then. They had left King's Landing behind, the moon was high, and the stars shown brightly on the dark water as the Narnian ship headed North. To her home. To her family. It was more than she had hoped — and this escape, with talking animals, and strange creatures she had never seen before, and a powerful but kind Queen — it seemed more like a dream than reality.

Queen Susan had wrapped an arm around her, and led Sansa to her cabin, calling for a healer to tend to her injuries and give her something to help her sleep. The healer turned out to be an older woman, tall like Susan's handmaids, with ancient eyes that studied Sansa as she tended to the wounds and bruises left by the Kingsguard. When finished, the healer, who Queen Susan called Barta, offered her a cup of what looked to be wine, but tasted somehow both bitter and sweet on Sansa's tongue.

Sansa's eyes were almost closed when Queen Susan and the healer took their leave. "You sleep well, Lady Sansa, and we will speak more when you're rested."

~~~

It had been several days before the healer would let Sansa leave the cabin. She had been beaten badly, Barta said, but she was also ill in spirit, and rest was was the best thing for her. Barta had stayed with her, day and night, tending to her injuries and talking with her, telling her about her homeland of Narnia.

Narnia, where Queen Susan and her sister-queen and brother-kings ruled, was a land of magic. Sansa would have found it hard to believe, save for the evidence in front of her eyes — Slynne the Ferret, the Raven whose name was Bolt, the white Wolf named Dulcie, and the Jaguar named Zhiraf, were all frequent visitors to Sansa's cabin, spending time with her while she rested, telling her their own stories of Narnia, and their adventures pretending to be dumb animals in King's Landing. It was easy to see how Susan had learned so much of King Joffrey's court and the Seven Kingdoms in such a short time, with spies who could listen openly to conversations, completely unnoticed.

Queen Susan was a less frequent visitor to the cabin — she was engaged in "queen's business" the others told Sansa — but when she did stop by, she would sit with Sansa and tell her own tales of Narnia. But when Sansa had asked questions of Susan, if the Lannisters had put chase to them, if there was any news of her family, or any developments in the war, the Queen had swiftly changed subject, or put an end to her visit.

They were keeping things from her, Sansa had realized. Worry, and the suspicion that she had exchanged one prison for another, had grown in her heart, but she kept her worry hidden, lest punishment once again come her way. The Narnians had been kind to her, extremely so thus far, but despite what she had always been told by Joffrey and Cersei, Sansa wasn't stupid. She knew people could change in the blink of an eye. So she kept her concerns to herself, until the day Barta had finally allowed her to leave her bunk, judging her recovered. "At least physically," she had said, giving Sansa a shrewd look. Sansa had only shrugged — nightmares and nerves were things she'd gladly live with, as long as she never had to see King's Landing again.

When Sansa had finally emerged from the cabin, her entire world changed. She was free from the Lannisters and Joffrey. Magic existed, if not in Westeros, but in another part of the world (and there were rumors of dragons in Essos, so magic even closer to home). The air was cold, and Sansa was bundled in warm woolens, on loan from Queen Susan. She was almost home.

And then Queen Susan had asked her to join her council meeting in her own spacious cabin, and Sansa's world changed again.

The council was made up of Queen Susan's retinue and were few in number. Sansa had sat down at the table next to Queen Susan, and listened as they told her their news: Robb broke his marriage alliance with the Freys, and took Jeyne Westerling as his wife and queen. The Boltons and the Freys had betrayed Robb, and her mother was dead. Her brother had barely escaped with his life, and had taken the remnants of his army and headed back to the North. The Narnia ship was only a few days from White Harbor, and once they made land, Queen Susan and the Narnians would find a way to reach King Robb, and return Sansa to her family.

Sansa was not a prisoner to the Narnians, but she would soon be key to their negotiations with the North.

~~~

It turned out that the escape from King's Landing was the easy part. Sansa and the Narnians had stayed in White Harbor, guests of Wyman Manderly, while they waited for word from Robb. They waited and waited and waited, while ravens crisscrossed the Seven Kingdoms, news traveling both into the New Castle and out of it. Sansa — now afforded the title of "Princess" by Lord Manderly — spent her days in the Merman's Court, shadowing Queen Susan. She was home, she was in the North, surrounded by people who respected her and who would protect her, but her position, she knew, was still valuable.

What was left of Robb's army had marched towards Winterfell, to retake it from the Boltons. The news from King's Landing told her Joffrey was dead, murdered at his own wedding, and now Tommen was on the throne. Lord Tyrion had disappeared entirely. There was a Dragon Queen rising in the East, the last Targaryen with three dragons under her command. There was news from Castle Black of battles with the Wildlings, of Jon Snow being elected the Lord Commander, and of yet another enemy coming from the North.

Winter was coming. The Stark words echoed in Sansa's head as she heard all the news, as she sat in council meetings with Lord Manderly and Queen Susan, as rumors of White Walkers reached the Merman's Court.

Lord Manderly had scoffed at the news from the Wall, calling it nothing but a pack of children's stories and legends out of history. Sansa had wondered at that — how Lord Manderly could say such a thing when the Narnians, creatures of magic and legend, milled out about his court.

Queen Susan had not scoffed. Her face had darkened and she had frowned and told of a Hundred Year Winter in Narnia. Indeed, the Queen had taken the threat of winter very seriously, sending word immediately to her siblings in Narnia that help was needed and they should send assistance at once. For an alliance had been made between Narnia and the North, with Lord Manderly acting on Robb's behalf in negotiating on the part of the North. Queen Susan had pledged to honor this alliance, with armies and supplies sent by Narnia.

Sansa too would honor the alliance. Because when the negotiations where final, she was betrothed to Queen Susan's brother, King Edmund of Narnia.

~~~

When Robb had finally sent word that Winterfell was secure, Sansa, Queen Susan and her Narnians, and the men Lord Manderly had raised to join the King in the North's armies, all marched towards Winterfell. Sansa was delighted to be home, delighted to be with her brother again, and heartbroken that they were the only Starks who remained.

She was surprised, too, at the honor Robb had given her — a place on his small council, and the responsibility of running Winterfell, while he prepared for yet another war. She was just a girl, she had argued with him, a silly, stupid girl. But Queen Susan had pointed out that Sansa knew the southron court better than anyone, and her insight and advice would be valuable to them all.

So Sansa had agreed, had taken up these new roles of advisor to Robb, and of Lady of Winterfell, keeping very busy with council meetings and overseeing the rebuilding of Winterfell, the food stores and the supplies that were sent, as weather allowed, from White Harbor and Deepwood Motte and Barrowton, from all over the north, as the smallfolk arrived to the winter town.

The wait had continued, while ravens continued to bring news: the dragon queen was headed west, King's Landing was in turmoil, as was the Night's Watch, and the rumors of the Others moving south grew stronger and stronger.

It wasn't a battle with the south they were preparing for, and they all had known. Winter was coming. As were the Narnian armies, Queen Susan confirmed when she had received messages from home. Her brother, King Edmund, was leading them.

But first had come news from the Wall of the Lord Commander's death. Robb and Sansa had been shocked, and Robb had sent a furious message, demanding an account of what had happened. But before he received a letter in return, Jon had shown up, leading an army of Wildling and Northerners he had gathered on his journey to Winterfell. 

Robb and Sansa had been glad to see him alive, glad that news of his death was a mistake. Jon, quiet as ever, did not speak about it, but instead brought news of the Others, confirming what they already knew: winter had arrived.

Jon had joined Robb's council then, and Sansa was busier than ever, preparing Winterfell and all its people for the arrival of the Army of the Dead

It had kept her distracted from the thoughts of her betrothal. She could not complain, because she understood the importance of the marriage alliance, and in the face of what was coming, it seemed incredibly selfish to complain. But oh, she wished that Queen Susan could have found another way. A betrothal to someone she had never met — well, he couldn't be any worse than Joffrey, it was true, but still, it was not what she had hoped. She had dreamed of escaping the Red Keep, of a man, strong and kind, who would be her husband and keep her safe. But she had never dreamed of marrying another king. She had never even thought of leaving Westeros. 

But when the War was over, if they all survived, that was what she'd do. She'd marry King Edmund and live in Narnia for the rest of her days, and Sansa tried not to think of how a new life had been chosen for her, without her consent.

~~~

It was Queen Susan's idea that Sansa greet Edmund on her own. Sansa had hesitated at first, but soon realized that this was an opportunity to show herself as both a Princess to be wed, and as Lady of Winterfell, competent and respected and able in her own right.

Now her future husband stands before her in the courtyard of Winterfell, snowflakes melting in his dark hair. His hair is like Queen Susan's, but his features are different — sharper where hers are gentle, his brown eyes nothing like his sister's deep blue. But King Edmund's eyes are shrewd, and there's a kindness to them, and when he speaks to her, Sansa feels a spark in her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Edmund comes to Westeros, to help the North fight a war, and to meet his future wife, Princess Sansa Stark.

Edmund is not the first Pevensie to journey to Westeros.

Susan had traveled across the Eastern Ocean first, past the Lone Islands, through uncharted waters, traveling the great distance to the distant country. She headed there after the Pevensies received an invitation from Joffrey Baratheon, King of the Seven Kingdoms. 

The siblings had held a council after receiving the invitation, Peter reading it aloud to all present.

It was an invitation to visit the country, to meet the king, and to consider an alliance, military and political, with Westeros. Within the promise of this alliance was the potential of marriage — King Joffrey had a younger sister and brother and neither betrothed.

Westeros was a country troubled by war, this was no secret. An alliance with Narnia would be beneficial to any of these warring factions — Narnia was rich in resources, and their military was renowned after their triumphs in Calormen, Terebinthia, and Ettinsmoor. Narnia, however, lacked one thing — humans. And in the case of the Kings and Queens, it specifically lacked marriageable humans who could help produce an heir.

So the invitation held an undeniable appeal.

After much discussion, it was decided that Susan, the chief diplomat amongst the four, would be the one to make the journey to the capital of King's Landing. She would travel with a retinue of Narnians, courtiers, councilors, and generals among them, to help her measure an alliance. And she would send word if help was needed.

She had departed quickly, and her sibling waited patiently for news. The wait, it had seemed, was very long. When her message finally came (sent via Edmund's intelligence network of merpeople, talking dolphins, and swift seabirds), it had been brief:

_An alliance has been made with the King in the North. Edmund will wed Princess Sansa of House Stark. War is imminent. Come at once, and bring all the armies._

Edmund had set sail for Westeros immediately, leading the majority of Narnia's fleet, loaded with the best Narnian fighters and weapons and smiths Narnia had. Susan had said an alliance was made and help was needed, so there was no hesitation.

Just curiosity and trepidation regarding the marriage Susan had arranged for him. He would honor the alliance, of course. But on the long journey across the sea, reading message after message from Susan describing the state of things in Westeros, making preparations for the war to come, his mind kept drifting to Princess Sansa, and wondering what a marriage to her would mean.

~~~

Princess Sansa Stark greets Edmund and his people once they march through the gates of Winterfell. The castle is enormous, bigger than any other Edmund's seen, and it's bustling with activity, people buzzing like bees around the snowy courtyard where Princess Sansa is waiting for them. King Robb is nowhere to be seen, nor is Susan, and Edmund wonders at that. Only one person is waiting for him, and Edmund knows immediately who she is.

The girl is tall.

It's the first thing Edmund thinks when he sees Sansa Stark. She's tall, with shining auburn hair that's done in an elaborate braid, and cool blue eyes that look him over quickly, assessing him in an instant, almost before he realizes that's what she's doing. He bows his head in greeting, giving her another chance to gaze at him.

When she looks away, her face reveals nothing. Edmund's not sure if he's been found wanting, or if he's satisfactory to her. Then she smiles at him, a bland smile, a shy smile, a smile that doesn't meet her eyes, a smile that one might mistake as pleased, if one didn't look as closely as Edmund. 

"Welcome to Winterfell, your grace," is all she says, dipping into a low curtsey, all grace even in the heavy woolen clothes that the people of the North favor.

She's beautiful too, he thinks as she straightens up to her full height. "Your _majesty _," he says mildly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Sansa."__

__Her eyes flicker from his face and downwards as she takes in his correction, barely a blink. Still Edmund notices. Smart too. She's spent too long in Susan's company not to make that mistake on purpose, to see how he would react._ _

__"Welcome to Winterfell, your majesty," she says, her voice smooth. "We have chambers prepared for you. You need rest after your long journey."_ _

__The journey had indeed been long and difficult. Once the fleet had entered White Harbor, Edmund and his people had disembarked, leaving the ships behind to travel over land to Winterfell. It was a hard trip, through snow and ice, with storms almost every day. The Narnians had been nervous, Edmund included, remembering the Witch and her Hundred Year Winter. By the time they had made it Winterfell, everyone was exhausted and disheartened, and looking forward to a hearty meal and a soft bed._ _

__He glances over his shoulder at the Narnians lined up behind him and spilling out the gates onto the Kingsroad, and back at Princess Sansa, but before he even opens his mouth, Sansa's speaking to one of her men, giving orders to get the Narnians into the Great Hall, where a meal is waiting for them. "We will find room for all your troops to lodge," she tells him, darting a quick gaze overhead at the eagles and gryphons, perhaps a bit doubtful of lodging for them._ _

__He knows his generals and commanders will work with the men the Starks provide to find space for them all, and Edmund gives her a smile. "Thank you, Princess." He's grateful and the Narnians are as well, cheering with the promise of food and a fire to warm themselves, eagerly following Sansa's men into the castle. He notices the looks that people of Winterfell are giving to Narnians — looks that range from shock to awe to suspicion and fear. He can't blame them, he supposes, but he hopes there won't be any trouble._ _

__Sansa merely nods and turns, gesturing for him to follow her. "Your sister is meeting with my brother, and his advisors," she tells him as she leads him through the castle. "They're aware you've arrived and sent me to get you settled."_ _

__Edmund's taking in the great castle of Winterfell as Sansa guides him along, the ancient grey stone walls, the torches flickering in their sconces, casting shadows everywhere, the tapestries hung along the corridors they walk down. This is a castle as old as it is huge, and Edmund wonders at the age, wonders if anyone is here who can tell him its history. "I appreciate your courtesy," he replies. "My people are tired, and they need food and rest. But tell me, are they safe?"_ _

__Sansa slows her steps, turning her head to study him. "Safe? What do you mean?"_ _

__"I could see the way your people were looking at them, and I understand that the people in this country are not used to magic, or beings such as my Narnians."_ _

__"No, there is no magic in Westeros, nor magical creatures." Her lips curve into a wry smile. "At least there wasn't, but now things have changed."_ _

__Edmund wants to ask about the change, but Sansa continues to speak as she walks. "We've grown used to Narnians here in Winterfell, thanks to Queen Susan and her retinue. But even so, seeing so many different Narnians, all at once, can be… disconcerting. But you have my word, and I speak for my brother the King, they will be safe. We welcome Narnia's assistance in our coming war."_ _

__Edmund can't help himself. "Do you also welcome a marriage alliance?"_ _

__"I've been betrothed before," Sansa says mildly, her face giving nothing away. "A marriage alliance is beneficial to both our countries." But her eyes don't meet his as she speaks._ _

__She stops in front of a door, and lifts the latch, leading Edmund into a room furnished with a large bed piled with furs, a chest, a table and two chair, set before a huge fire roaring in the hearth. "This is where you'll be staying. Please, take time to relax and make yourself comfortable. I'll have a meal prepared and sent up for you, and after that, you can join the King's council."_ _

__Edmund knows he should leave it at that, let her go off to whatever duties she has. But Edmund wants to know this girl better, wants to begin to understand her. "Will you join me for the meal, Princess? I would very much like your company."_ _

__Sansa is surprised by this request, he can tell by the way she blinks and hesitates before she replies. "Of course, your majesty. I'll see to the meal and be back shortly." She heads to the door, but pauses, turning to face him. "And please, you can call me Sansa." It's a courtesy, he knows, but he thinks her smile is genuine this time._ _

__"Thank you, Sansa. And you should call me Edmund."_ _

__She smiles again, and then she's gone, closing the door behind her, leaving Edmund alone to ponder her and this place._ _

__~~~_ _

__After their meal, filled with polite small talk and the occasional insightful revelation, Sansa again leads Edmund through the dark grey corridors of Winterfell, to what she calls the King's solar, where they join the meeting of the King's council. She introduces him to her brother, King Robb (capable, a good commander, and obviously respected by his people, is Edmund's assessment), their half brother, and recently named Hand of the King, Jon Snow (another good commander, but Edmund wonders at the haunted look on his face,) and the rest of the King's council._ _

__The meeting feels endless, filled with talk of unrest throughout Westeros, an Army of the Dead marching south, and a dragon queen who has pledged to join them in their battle. Only Jon Snow and some of his men ha d seen this Army of the Dead, and they call them "Others" and "White Walkers." Edmund sees that some of the advisors are skeptical, despite their preparations for war, but he meet Susan's eyes across the council table and she nods at him. He trusts his sister. This threat is real. It may not be what he feared as he journeyed to Westeros — Jadis's return, bringing another near-endless winter — but a different kind of magic doesn't make it any less threatening._ _

__Jon Snow recounts fights with the White Walkers and their Wights, and Edmund listens carefully. When he glances at Sansa, he sees that she is too. He'd smile at that, but the subject is too serious. He pledges the Narnian armies' support — they will train under Jon Snow and his commanders to learn the best ways to fight the Army of the Dead. He pledges the weapons they've brought and the best dwarf smiths to continue to make more._ _

__And then he listens. He observes. He watches the interaction between the three siblings, between the King and his advisors. He listens as they all speak, as they talk of battle strategies. He observes the surprise on many faces when Sansa makes her contributions to the strategy._ _

__Edmund is also surprised, since in his experience, a Princess is not usually a military advisor. Another surprise is how happy it makes him — Sansa is not an ornamental Princess who is merely waiting to be married. She's brilliant, as well as beautiful, and just seeing her here in the council, advising on strategy and the state of affairs in the castle, on the food stores and the supplies, on the people pouring in, looking for refuge. She's _capable_ , and while it's not the most romantic quality, it's one that makes Edmund realize she'll be a perfect queen in Narnia. _ _

__He glances across the table at Susan, and the look on her face is smug._ _

__The meeting finally ends when the candles have burned down to stubs, and all present are trying, unsuccessfully, to hold back yawns. As everyone starts to disperse, Edmund has a moment alone with Susan and gives his sister a long hug. They haven't seen each other in months, and he wishes this was different — that Susan had made an alliance and brought a bride back home to him, rather than them both being here in this strange country, on the brink of a deadly war._ _

__"I've made you a good match, Ed," is all she says as she squeezes him tight._ _

__He laughs softly. "I think you might have."_ _

__"I know I have," she whispers. "And she's waiting for you, to take you back to your chambers." Susan pulls away from him and gives him a grin and a gentle shove towards the doorway where Sansa is indeed waiting. "Be good tonight."_ _

__"As if I'd be anything but," he says. But Susan knows him well, and when Sansa smiles at him before leading him out of the room, as he looks at her and realizes just what a good match Susan has made him, he wishes to be anything but good._ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding and war.

Despite the arrival of King Edmund and the Narnian armies, despite the arrival not long after of the Dragon Queen and her armies, despite the endless training of the soldiers, the endless work by the smiths and armorers, the endless tasks of preparing Winterfell and its people for both winter and war, despite the daylight growing shorter and shorter as each day passes, despite the storms coming almost non-stop, with snow piling higher and higher each day… despite all this, Winterfell and and its occupants still wait.

The waiting, however, seems to Sansa to be a little easier now that King Edmund — Edmund — is spending all his free time with her.

"Winter is coming, those are your house words, correct?" he says to her one afternoon when he joins her on her rounds through the castle, as she checks in on all the people under her care.

"They are indeed," Sansa replies mildly. He knows they are, and she knows he knows. 

"Does it always take this long?" 

One thing Sansa has learned about King Edmund: he likes making these kinds of jokes. And Sansa, for some reason, likes hearing them. She gives him a smile as they enter the Great Hall, where she takes stock of the candles and torches.

"I don't remember the last winter," she tells him. "I was too young. But perhaps if you send a raven to the Others and tell them of your impatience, they'll hurry to us."

Edmund eyes her with exaggerated suspicion. "Now you're mocking me."

"I prefer to think of it as teasing."

"Not very kind of you, Sansa."

"Is it not? I thought you said teasing was the way you and your sister showed affection."

Edmund just laughs at that, and Sansa thinks that another thing she’s learned, not so much about Edmund but about herself, is how much she likes to hear him laugh.

And she likes even more when he offers her his arm as the they exit the Great Hall, her task completed, and covers her hand with his as they walk across the courtyard.

It’s one of the few hours of daylight, and a brief respite from the storms, and the residents of Winterfell is making the most of it — soldiers training in the yard, the sound of hammers ringing out from the smithy, small children running this way and that, anxious to catch a glimpse of the still-strange-to-their-eyes Narnians, or to overhear a conversation between Talking Beasts.

Just as Susan has Dulcie and Zhiraf, Edmund has two guards that follow his every step. Today it’s Accalia, a Wolf that reminds Sansa of Lady, both in coloring and temperament. Although, of course, Lady never spoke to Sansa, even though it felt sometimes like Lady was a piece of her soul. Accalia is most definitely not a piece of Edmund’s. Still Susan enjoys her company, almost as much as she enjoys Edmund’s.

It’s strange how easier waiting for impending doom is, when there a future husband to get to know, Sansa thinks. As each day passes, she is less worried about their marriage, and her trust in Edmund grows. 

The marriage alliance was necessary, and Sansa understood why. She had expected to learn to live with its consequences, to marry a strange and leave her home and live out her days in a foreign land.

What she hadn’t expected was that she would actually _like_ that stranger.

She does. Sansa is very fond of King Edmund of Narnia. She makes a mental list of all the reasons she’s fond of him, as they cross the courtyard, wading through the heavy snow, and Edmund shouts encouragement to his soldiers training in the yard as they pass by. 

He’s a true king, noble and brave and generous. He’s smart, very smart, and he’s also fair. He will listen to every side of an argument, issue, problem, or puzzle, before he’s ready to offer advice or judgment. She knows he’s known as “The Just” in Narnia, and the more she learns of him, the more apt the title seems. He’s an excellent observer, and he’s quiet when he takes things in — almost as quiet as Jon Snow, and Sansa has observed the Narnian King spending much time with her half-brother, listening to his stories of the Night’s Watch, and Wildlings, and the White Walkers. 

Often times the conversations are just between the two of them, dark heads bent close together, and both speaking in low voices that Sansa can’t overhear. But the looks on both their faces tell her that Jon’s words are grim, and Edmund is both worried by and sympathetic to Jon’s tale. 

She likes that about him, that Edmund, like his sister-queen, is ready to take Jon at his word, without hesitation.

Edmund is not perfect, and Sansa has noticed that as well. He’s grumpy, and impatient, and when he’s particularly worried, he can be quite sarcastic. Sometimes he goes very quiet and still, even in a room full of people, as if he’s gone very far away inside his head.

Sansa doesn’t know what he’s thinking at such times, but she thinks she understands him, especially when he catches her watching him, and gives her a small smile, eyes dark but not unreadable. Not to her.

They walk together back inside the castle, through the kitchens and to the glass gardens. Edmund’s asked to see them before, but this is the first day there’s been time for them to visit.

He pauses at the threshold, and gazes around. “Sansa, this is marvelous!”

Sansa looks around the glass gardens, trying to see them the way he does. “You think so?”

“Of course! All of this food, for all of your people, and in the midst of winter it still grows. Do all the castles in the North have glass gardens?”

Sansa shakes her head as they begin to walk again, down the long paths, with plants growing all around them. “Not all of them, but the biggest ones do. My father always said how important they were for winter.”

Edmund nods, but makes no response, just stares around in wonder as they walk deeper and deeper into the gardens. Finally he stops in front of bloom of winter roses to take a closer look.

“Blue roses. That’s unusual.”

“Winter roses,” Sansa tells him. “They only grow here in the North.”

“Hmm.” Edmund drops her arm and turns to face her. “Will you carry them when we wed?”

“I…” This is an unexpected question, but Sansa answers as best she can. “I will, if you would like.”

“And would _you_ like?”

The question might be about carrying winter roses, but Sansa thinks it’s something more. Edmund is asking if she has any doubts, if she is sure, if this marriage will truly be able to proceed.

She knows how to answer. “Yes, I would like. I would like it if it makes you happy.”

She’s still nervous — about leaving Winterfell and Westeros, to become queen in a strange land. But about wedding Edmund? Sansa doesn’t know how it happened so quickly, but she’s _sure._

Edmund takes both her hands in his, and holds them tight. “I’d like it to be soon.”

“The wedding?” 

“Yes, before …” His voice trails off and he shrugs. “Before everything happens.”

Sansa understands immediately. Before the battle. Before the dead arrive. “Yes,” she tells him. “I would like that as well.”

He kisses her then, soft and quick, just a brush of his lips to hers. She’s dreamed of kisses, ever since she was a little girl. She’s dreamed of a golden prince to marry, and then there was Joffrey, and that dream was shattered. But a wedding, a husband, and kisses — those dreams have never entirely left her.

Edmund is looking at her with amusement. “Is the kiss to your liking, Princess?”

Sansa shrugs. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll need another to be positive.”

And Edmund is happy to give her that, as happy as Sansa is to compare kisses.

~~~

They wed just a few days later, in front of the heart tree in the godswood. The sun has set after only a few hours, and torches and stars provide the only light as Robb escorts her along the path to where Edmund waits in front of the weirwood tree.

Sansa’s maiden cloak has been ready for months. She had started sewing when she first heard of the betrothal, and now she's wrapped in the cloak of white, with the grey direwolf she had painstakingly embroidered. The constant snow is falling lightly, and snowflakes swirl around them as they walk.

Robb smiles at her, but his eyes are sad. "I wish Father were here to see how beautiful you look. And Mother too."

Sansa's heart aches at his words. She's wished the same — for Father and Mother, so many times — but she's learned there's no use wishing for things that will never happen. Instead, she must save her wishes for what's possible — for them all to survive this Long Night and the coming war, for Edmund to be the good husband she's hardly dared to hope for, for herself to be a good wife to him, and for them to have a happy life together.

She returns Robb's smile. "I think they would be happy for me. And proud of you, for the match you've made me."

Robb's eyes brighten at her words. She knows he's be torn about this betrothal, about having her wed a stranger, especially after what she'd suffered at Joffrey's hands. But Robb knows better than most the consequences of breaking a betrothal. No matter how torn he'd felt, how guilty he'd look, this marriage was always going to happen.

Sansa is just glad that Edmund has turned out to be a good man, the best kind of man. He's not the golden prince she'd dreamed of when she was young and foolish, before King's Landing nearly killed all of her dreams. But he's kind, and he cares for her, and he makes her laugh, and his kisses make her feel warm inside. "He's a good man, Robb. He's what I want."

There's no more time for assurances though, as they arrive at the clearing where the weirwood stands, its red leaves standing out brightly against the white bark and the falling snow. Edmund waits there, with Susan by his side, and their guards standing behind them. Jon's there also, and Jeyne, and that is all the family left to Sansa. Her heart aches again, but then Edmund smiles at her, and the look on his face is so delighted that she forgets to feel sad.

They agreed to marry in front of the Old Gods — Sansa wanted nothing to do with septons and the Seven after her time in King's Landing. Edmund hadn't minded the request, and when she'd described the ceremony to him, he'd said it was near the same as a Narnian wedding. 

Jon steps in front of her and Robb, a smile lighting his face for a change. "Who comes before the Old Gods this night?"

Robb clears his throat before speaking his part. "Sansa, of the House Stark, Lady of Winterfell, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" 

Edmund steps forward at that, so close to Sansa they're almost touching. But not yet. "I, Edmund the Just, King of Narnia, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, and brother to Peter, the High King. Who gives her?" 

Robb's voice sounds tight to Sansa's ears when replies. "Robb, of the House Stark, her brother and her King." 

Jon pauses, glancing at Edmund and Susan, his grey eyes studying them both, before he asks, "Lady Sansa, will you take this man?" 

Sansa should hesitate, she thinks. Everything that's brought her to this point, that's worth another pause, worth consideration, before tying her life to this man, whom she still hardly knows. But Edmund is beaming at her, and Sansa answers immediately, "I take this man," and reaches for his hand, sliding her gloved fingers into his.

The kneel before the tree only briefly — the snow is so deep and cold — but long enough for Sansa to look at the face of the weirwood, the eyes that stare back at her. She has one wish left, that the Old Gods bless their union. Then they're on their feet again, and Sansa is shrugging off her maiden cloak and handing it to Jeyne, as Edmund wraps his own cloak around her shoulders. It's a deep red, trimmed in gold, with a gold lion embroidered on it. Sansa has to repress a shudder as she thinks of Joffrey, but Edmund is a different man, and this is a different lion.

This is a ceremony of the old gods, but there is one part Sansa asked to include from the faith of the Seven. Before Edmund lifts her into this arms, they face each other and join both hands and Sansa says, "I am his and he is mine." Edmund says his words back: "I am hers and she is mine," then presses a quick kiss to her lips before sweeping her into his arms.

"That wasn't so bad," he murmurs to her as he carries her along the path out of the godswood and back to the castle, their family members following behind.

"No, it was very quick," Sansa agrees, laying her head against his shoulder.

"Thank the gods, because it's cold as hell out here!" 

They both laugh as Edmund quickens the pace to the doors of the Great Hall, where everyone is gathered for the wedding feast.

~~~

The feast is not quite as elaborate as it would have been, before winter. But everyone eats their fill, and the celebration is a joyous one, with dancing and songs. Sansa takes a turn with everyone — her husband, her brothers, with all the Northern lords present, and finally spins with both her goodsisters in a traditional northern dance. The hall is packed with all the people of Winterfell, and as many Narnians as can fit, and they all crowd together when the music plays. She even sees Jon dancing, with Queen Susan and she and Edmund share a laugh at that, Jon reluctantly dragging his feet as Susan moves gracefully. Even the Dragon Queen dances, and that's a sight to be seen. Many songs are sung, even Narnian ones, with both Susan and Edmund taking their turns. 

It's a grand time, but there's a feeling of unrest, too. This is the last feast, the last celebration, before the war, and they all know it. It may be the last celebration ever, if they do not claim victory, and everyone seems determined to make it last as long as possible.

Edmund squeezes Sansa's hand when the calls for the bedding begin. She told him of her fears and he agreed that it wouldn't happen. Instead he stands, and calls out, "There'll be none of that! My bride and I will take our leave now, and we thank you all for your presence here and for feasting us so warmly."

The Northerners seem a bit disappointed, until Edmund sweeps Sansa off her feet and into his arms again. Then the cheers begin as he makes their way through the hall. "To Queen Sansa!" and Sansa's face feels aflame.

The doors of the Great Hall shut behind them, and Edmund lets Sansa down to her feet, leaning in to press another kiss to her mouth. This is different than the other kisses they've shared — it's longer, and there's a heat to it that surprises Sansa.

What surprises her even more is her reaction, pressing her body against his, and kissing him hard, her lips moving eagerly against his.

When they break apart, Sansa's panting and Edmund is staring at her, his eyes dark and nearly unreadable.

Only nearly. Sansa knows what he wants and she wants the same. She reaches for his hand. "Take me to your chambers."

~~~

He beds her, as he is meant to do, as she wants him to do.

Sansa's fearful — she can't help it, even now, even wed to this kind man, this good king, whom she trusts. When he undresses her, she shakes, remembering the hands of the Kingsguard on her body, tearing her dresses and using their fists.

But Edmund's hands are gentle, and his soft touches and softer words help her through it.

She only cries once, when she's completely bare before him. She's not scared of what comes next, but she's ashamed of the scars covering her body, ashamed that he has to see them.

Edmund, however, smiles at her. "You're beautiful, Sansa," he murmurs, gazing at her as he swiftly removes his own clothing. "So beautiful."

She's not sure she believes him — the scars mar her skin, and she hates them — but then he kisses her again, and she melts into his arms.

When he lays her on the bed, she expects it to be over soon, but her husband takes his time, kissing every inch of her, paying special attention to all the scars, his lips hot against her equally heated skin. 

She's surprised at how much she loves it, loves the attention, loves the kisses and the touches, his hands and mouth on her breasts and between her legs. She's surprised at how good it feels, and she's surprised when her pleasure builds and builds until it feels like she might explode. And gods, the explosion when it comes is so good, so sweet, that Sansa cries out, both in pleasure and amazement.

Edmund is grinning at her as she stares at him, breathing hard. "You liked that, I take it?"

"You… you… should shut up and come here." Sansa reaches for her husband, pulling him close and kissing him hard. When he eases into her, she holds her breath, but there's no pain. 

Edmund's sheathed fully within her, arms braced against the bed, but he stares at her, not moving. "Are you… is this all right?" he asks, his voice strained.

It's Sansa turn to grin. "Didn't I tell you to shut up already?" She kisses him again and rocks her her hips and Edmund ceases to worry about her, instead chasing his own pleasure.

King Edmund is not the husband Sansa had imagined as a young girl, but he's hers, and she's happier than she's been in years.

~~~

The wedding night is only two days past when the war begins.

The Army of the Dead have arrived at Winterfell, and the armies of the North, of Narnia, of the Dragon Queen all go to meet them. 

Sansa is to stay in the keep with the people, the ones who are too old and too young to fight, or who are untrained like herself and like Jeyne. Queen Susan will be in the fight, up on the walls of Winterfell with the archers. The Dragon Queen will be as well, commanding her dragons from above the battlefield.

Edmund comes to speak to her before he rides out with Robb and Jon, clad in his Narnian armor, emblazoned with a red lion. "Be safe, wife," is all he says before he kisses her.

It may be the last kiss they share, Sansa thinks, and it's not enough. "You stay safe yourself, husband," she whispers and he walks to the door. "I still have need of you."

Edmund flashes her a grin. "As do I of you."

Then he leaves, and for Sansa, the real waiting begins.

~~~

She can't say how long the fight lasts. It feels like they wait forever within the walls of Winterfell, while the battle rages on outside. They hear the sounds of battle — the clashing of steel, explosions, howling wind, and the screaming, both of humans and dragons. 

Days pass, while the war continues. How many days, Sansa doesn't know, as the sun never rises. It's the Long Night they've been waiting for, the Long Night they've been fearing.

She and Jeyne tend to the wounded in the Great Hall with the maester and other women. But there are fewer than expected — the men who bring them in tell them of the dead getting up and walking again.

Sansa thinks of her family, thinks of her husband, and she prays, to the old gods and the new, prays ever prayer she ever knew, for victory, for deliverance, for safety.

~~~

The storm never lets up. The winds howl and the snow falls and even inside Winterfell, everything is icy to the touch. It goes on forever, and Sansa thinks she might go mad with the sounds of it. But finally, _finally_ the winds quiet down. Those in the Great Hall stare at each other, afraid to even hope.

Then the doors open and Robb strides through them, bloodied and weary, but alive. "It's over," he announces as Jeyne runs into his arms. "The Others are defeated, and we have victory."

One by one, the survivors straggle into the Hall, many wounded, most exhausted and dazed. Sansa is relieved to see them all, but there are so many missing. 

Including her husband.

Finally he's carried into the Hall, by Queen Susan and Jon. He's covered in blood and barely conscious, but he smiles when he sees Sansa, crying over him anxiously. "I told you I still have need of you."

~~~

There is waiting again, after the battle. Waiting for Edmund to heal. Waiting while the dead are burned, waiting while the snows melt, waiting while she hears story after story of how the battle was won, of the Dragon Queen sacrificing herself, of Jon mounting a dragon and soaring above the battlefield, raining fire on the Army of the Dead.

She hears Edmund's stories as well, as she curls against him in their bed. He tells of the battle and the part he played in it, of the people he lost. He tells her other stories too — of his childhood, of a White Witch, of his betrayal and guilt, of the redemption he still seeks.

"You don't need redemption," she whispers to him, her hand stroking gently through his hair. "Not with me."

She tells him her own stories of betrayal, of telling the Queen of her father's plans, of how he lost his life while she watched, and she lives with that guilt every day.

"Not with me," he repeats back to her, and the first time since her father's death, Sansa feels a little lighter.

~~~

They wait for a long time, but finally winter is over. 

Discoveries are made during the waiting — Jeyne is with child and King Robb will have an heir. Sansa is not, but Edmund assures her when he's well again, she soon will be. Miracles happen — Arya returns first, leading a pack of wolves with Nymeria by her side, with the news that King's Landing has fallen and Cersei is dead. Then Bran comes, strange and silent and a shadow of his old self, but its Bran and he's alive. Finally Rickon, with wildlings escorting him, half a wildling himself, returns home.

Sansa and Robb and Jeyne are delighted to welcome their siblings home, and that they are no longer the last of the Starks. Laughter rings through the walls of Winterfell, as it did when they were children. There have been so many losses, but Sansa thinks happily of all she's gained.

She also thinks sadly of all she will leave behind, of the family she is likely to never see again. But she has Edmund now, and soon they will have their own family, and whenever he sees a frown cross her face, or her eyes go wistful as she looks at Bran or Rickon or Arya, he takes her hand and reminds her that they are lucky.

She knows that. 

She knows when Edmund is finally well enough to travel, how lucky she is, to have this man who loves her, her understands her, who has made her his queen.

She leaves Winterfell with him, and with Queen Susan, and what remains of the Narnian army. Unexpectedly, she leaves with one of her brothers as well — Jon Snow, who says he's never had a real future in Westeros and would like to see what else the world holds for him.

She says goodbye to her family, to all the people who survived the Battle for the Dawn, and to Winterfell, and tears come to her eyes as she remembers the last time she rode down the Kingsroad, thinking her whole life was ahead of her that day.

Edmund's horse is trotting alongside hers and when he sees her tears, he frowns. "Are you ready to leave, wife?"

She knows what he's really asking, and she loves him for it. He would release her, she thinks, if she was truly unhappy, if she wished to remain here in the North. He would leave her behind and his heart would break, she thinks, but he would do it because he has grown to love her as she loves him.

She draws a hand across her eyes, brushing away her tears. "I'm ready, husband. Take me home."

Her whole life is waiting for her there.


End file.
